Tinder Takeaway | NEON LIT

Tinder at 11 PM was usually a wasteland. Drunk messages, obvious bots, and the occasional "you up?" that you'd regret responding to.

But Charlotte's message was different.

"Saw you're close. I'm at the Deliveroo pickup in town waiting for food. Want to meet me there?"

Weird first date suggestion. But she was fit—thick, brown hair, the kind of smile that suggested she didn't take anything seriously.

"Sure. Which restaurant?"

"The one by the station. Ten minutes?"

She was exactly as advertised—thick thighs in tight jeans, low-cut top, leather jacket. Waiting outside Chopstix Express with her phone in hand.

"You actually came," she said. "Most guys flake."

"Most guys are idiots."

"Facts." She grinned. "I'm Charlotte. But you knew that."

"Ryan."

"Ryan. Your bio said you like spontaneous adventures."

"That was mostly marketing."

"Well, you're here. So it's at least partially true." Her phone buzzed. "Food's ready. Want to share? I ordered way too much."

"Where?"

"There's a park nearby. Bit cold but I've got blankets in my car." She collected her bag of food. "Unless that's too weird for a first date."

"We're meeting at a Deliveroo pickup. Weird ship has sailed."

The park was empty, her car was a surprisingly nice Audi, and the food was actually decent.

"So," Charlotte said, eating noodles. "Why Tinder?"

"Same as everyone. Loneliness. Boredom. Mild desperation."

"Honest. I like honest." She offered me a spring roll. "I mostly use it for entertainment. See what's out there. Rarely meet anyone."

"Why me?"

"You seemed... normal? Not trying too hard. Plus you're fit." She shrugged. "Figured I'd take a chance."

"And the unusual meeting spot?"

"Wanted to see if you'd actually do it. Most people want proper dates. Coffee. Drinks. Boring stuff." She leaned back. "I like spontaneous."

"So do I. Apparently."

"Apparently." She put down her food. "Want to be more spontaneous?"

"What did you have in mind?"

She kissed me—noodles-warm, confident. "This. And more. If you're interested."

The back seat of an Audi was surprisingly spacious.

Charlotte straddled my lap, kissing me deeply. "Been thinking about this since I swiped right."

"That was an hour ago."

"I think fast." She pulled off her top. "And I know what I want."

Her bra was red lace, and I unhooked it quickly. Her tits were perfect—full, soft, nipples already hard.

"Like what you see?"

"Love it."

"Good." She reached for my jeans. "Because there's more."

She was efficient, confident—exactly what her profile suggested. She sank down onto me with a satisfied moan.

"Fuck—yes—"

We fucked in her car, the windows fogging up, Chinese food abandoned in the front seat. She rode me hard, knowing exactly what she wanted.

"Touch me—need more—"

I found her clit, rubbed while she bounced. She came quickly.

"Don't stop—again—"

She came three times before I finished. We sat there, breathing hard.

"Well," she said. "Best Tinder date ever."

"Best Deliveroo pickup ever."

"Both, honestly." She kissed me. "Same time next week? I'll try a different restaurant."

"It's a date."

"The weird kind."

"My favorite kind."

I walked home with cold noodles in my pocket and plans for next week.

Best swipe right of my life.